I truly enjoy crappy movies, or, as described in the “About” section, “productions from the pop culture reject pile”. I find lousy movies, the kind that know it’s going to be culturally unimpressive but hope you won’t mind (to paraphrase one of my favorite P.G. Wodehouse quotes), to be unpretentiously charming. Since discovering Son Savaşçı, I’ve been searching for another movie that could keep me as entertained as the dual force of Mr. Cünet Arkın and his fantastic hair. I may have found it.
While trying to research if there are any Arabic vampire movies (and having found none, I’m trying to research why that is), I discovered this little gem: The Legend of the 7 Vampires, alternatively known as “The Seven Brothers meet Dracula”, or, my favorite, “The Seven Brothers and Their One Sister Meet Dracula”, though both those titles are misleading since neither the seven brothers nor their one sister end up meeting Dracula. Having only two alternative titles is for suckers though; this film is so awesome it has a third alias: Dracula and the 7 Golden Vampires. The “Golden” part is inaccurate as well (the vampires themselves aren’t made of gold, but they wear gold medallions), but at least adds some bling-related credibility to the title, which is very important.
I’ve chosen this movie in particular to write about because, given the lack of Arab vampire movies, I guess it’s up to me to try to write out a script for one, until I get bored and move onto another project. This movie stands out because it depicts how gentlemen battle against gentlemanly zombies and vampires, which is exactly how my hypothetical Arabic vampire movie would play out. I should add that, in my hypothetical Arabic vampire movie, “Dracula” is re-named “Adham”. It’s the closest Arabic alternative I could think of.
Our first encounter of gentlemanly behavior occurs about 10 minutes into the movie, when Mr. Hsi Tien-en leaves his village, knowing fully well that he will encounter unspeakable horrors (seriously, his character doesn’t have a single line of dialogue) in the form of vampires who have terrorized his village for years. When he reaches their temple, he peers through the door to see women tied down around a cauldron, screaming in terror. No longer able to handle their screams, particularly those of the prettiest one (she’s wearing red), he barges in and, being a gentleman, attempts to unshackle one of the ladies (obviously, the prettiest one). Unable to do so, a scuffle ensues with one of the vampires, during which he steals its golden bat medallion. He escapes the temple, is chased by zombies, but manages to place the medallion under a statue of Buddha before being killed, ensuring that the vampires will not be able to retrieve it.
A few scenes later, we witness another gentlemanly interaction when the British Trade Consul describes Mr. Leung Hon, a “sort of Tong leader”, sitting behind him as an “awful blackguard” to Mr. Leyland Van Helsing, Professor Van Helsing’s son. To this, Leyland replies with a nonchalant yet very gentlemanly “how very jolly!” This marks the point where I fell in love with Leyland and/or/possibly his hair, and explains why I’m going to be writing quite a bit about Leyland’s hair in this post.
After sitting through Professor Van Helsing’s lecture that afternoon, Mr. Hsi Ching, Mr. Hsi Tien-en’s grandson, decides to go to the professor’s home to convince him to return to his village and help rid them of the vampire curse. He does this by climbing into his house through a window, ducking behind the shadows, hiding behind a pillar, and only revealing himself when the professor discovers him and asks (rather coolly) “who are you, what do you want?”. I have to admire Professor Van Helsing’s suaveness during this scene; personally, if a strange man shows up in my house (having climbed in through the windows and hid behind pillars and shadows), my primary reaction would be to scream hysterically and throw every object within arms reach at the intruder, and not to engage in pleasant conversation.
Sartorial choices are very important for a gentleman, particularly one that will be engaging in combat with gentlemanly vampires, zombies and Tong leader henchmen. Mr. Leyland and his hair are impeccable in their outfit choices throughout this movie, particularly with regards to neckwear. During their first scuffle with the henchmen, his dapper though thin and flimsy necktie comes undone; however, by their second encounter, he is wearing a sturdier green tie of suitable width. The tie is an excellent choice and in a very pleasing color; unfortunately, by the time he meets the cave zombies, Leyland (or, more likely, his more-practical thinking hair), decides to forgo all types of neck wear and remains neck-wear-less for the remainder of the film.
We may excuse Leyland for his fashion faux pas in this scene, as we are more preoccupied by the pas de deux with a vampire that Professor Van Helsing finds himself engaged in. In this rather charming scene, the dance continues for a few seconds before the practical Ching puts an end to the nonsense by kicking the vampire forward, causing the professor to inadvertently kill it. It should be noted that the zombies emerge from the corners of the cave in this scene in a single-file and orderly manner, as is befitting of gentlemanly zombies.
In the final “vampires and zombies” vs. “Hsi brothers (and their one sister) and the Van Helsing’s (and Mrs. Buren)” scene, the vampires arrive at the village on horseback while the zombies hippity-hop (that’s the only way to describe it) over on foot, demonstrating the social hierarchy and classism of the undead world. Unfortunately, this scene shows the Van Helsing’s fighting the zombies in a manner similar to how a lady would swat a wasp out of her bonnet. Sadly, this results in Mrs. Buren being attacked by a vampire while the professor un-gallantly pants in the background, feebly waving his torch. Even factoring in his age, this scene could be used to support arguments that academics need to get out into the field more often – one would’ve hoped that a vampire anthropologist would hit the gym every once in a while to remain in top vampire killing shape.
As this movie is made by gentlemen, for gentlemen, the nudity and sexuality commonly dominant in the vampire trope are kept to a minimum. During a scene where the vampires and zombies terrorize the village, a vampire tears open a woman’s shirt, an act which serves no purpose other than to expose her breasts for the vampire’s (and the viewers) amusement. In the world of the 7 vampires, living or undead, everyone enjoys the sight of boobies.
The movie ends in an appropriately gentlemanly fashion: Dracula is killed by the professor, Leyland’s hair and the one sister Mai Kwei presumably ride off into the sunset to get married (after he rescues her from one of the vampires and proves himself worthy of her, of course), and most of the seven brothers (including Hsi Ching) die a noble death eradicating the vampires and thus saving the village. The village, now rid of its vampire curse, can return to a life of relative normality and, presumably, its citizens collectively cancel their emigration plans to move to a non-cursed location (one with good schools for the children).
A.